Carnivorous english version
by SherlockSnape
Summary: He gave me his heart. Flesh. Blood. Warm. Pounding under my fingers, in the middle of the Chapel of Palazzo Normanni. He gave me his heart and it beats now, in my chest, in unison with mine. And I forgave him, as he forgave me. Hannibal. Grace of Baal. Hunger for flesh. Bloodthirstiness. Being amoral. (Season 3 spoilers)


**Carnivorous**

Hi, everyone! I'm French and it's my first translation french - english.  
So, I need you guys! I need your objective opinion. If you think it's sucks, badly translated, if you see faults, incoherence, please, tell me.  
If you like it or not, tell me too.  
Thanks!  
It's translate of one of my fanfictions. You can find it in french too.  
It's short, trash, gory, hard, but it's my vision of them.  
So, enjoy!

* * *

He gave me his heart.

Flesh. Blood. Warm. Pounding under my fingers, in the middle of the Chapel of Palazzo Normanni.

He gave me his heart and it beats now, in my chest, in unison with mine.

And I forgave him, as he forgave me.

Hannibal.

 _Grace of Baal._

Hunger for flesh. Bloodthirstiness. Being amoral.

He gave me his heart and I have more desire to find him. To lose myself in his brown eyes overflowing with intelligence, envy, need, amusement, sadness, melancholy. Empathic sociopath. Antinomy. Contradiction. Oxymoron. Paradox. The sound of his voice as a cocaine rail. His touch as a shot of heroin. Overdose of adrenaline. Glut of ocytocin. Lack's shiver. Mad desire. Primary need. Bloodthirsty.

In my mind, as a viper, whispering, crawling under my skin, on the edge of madness. Desire, as an endless fire, devouring my guts. The scar on my stomach, which burns, as a painful reminder. I melt into the night. I finally found his track. He thought he could hide from me, but I can smell him for miles around. Spice, iron, copper, heat, coldness. It floats in the heavy air of a Florentine night, carried by the wind. Paris. Palermo. Lithuania. The road was long, but it came to an end.

Doctor Fell. A palace. Fake identity. Fake house. It looks like him so much. Chameleon. Reptilian. Mrs. Fell is out. I saw her leave, lurking in the shadow of a porch. Good. Unusually large rooms. Ridiculously rich decoration. The continuous flow of water guides my steps to an equally huge bathroom. Door wide open. Candlelight. Cozy atmosphere. Woody scent. Bath. Valve open, it fills. Moisture in the air. And the sudden burning of a look on my neck. No need to turn around to feel that it is him.

His aura expans into the room, overwhelming mine, warming my senses, enveloping me in its warmth, scratching me with its coldness, burning my loins. My heart misses a beat. I lose my breath and almost my reason. Slowly, I turn. He stands before me, without blinking. Impeccable hairstyle, unfathomable eyes, dilated pupils, a raised eyebrow, scarlet lips, the hint of a smile. In one hand, a black towel. In the other, a knife of reasonable size. But these details don't alter the man dangerousness. He's completely naked, fingers and arms covered with someone else's blood. Muscles drawn, dry. Smooth curves, carved for combat. Virility. Firmness. Power. Musk. Sweat. Iron. A raw, primitive work of art. The personified ferocity.

My erratic breathing. My panicked heart muscle. Irrational thoughts. Hunger for me in his brown eyes. But, which one? The light of danger shines there. But, which one? Headcase. Mad. Insane. The idea that he would devour me alive could almost make me come. The idea that he would take me on the floor.

One step.

One beat.

One inspiration.

One deafening silence.

I approach him without fear. He gave me his heart. So, I offered him mine, without rancor. He can absorb it, bite it, swallow it, consume it, crunch it, burn it, eat it, ravage it, and gnaw it. He can feast on it, tighten it in the hand until it bursts or kiss it. No matter. it does not belong to me anymore, anyway.

All his body tightens. Hunter. Predator. The shadow of the solitary stag. I move a hand forward, which doesn't tremble, touch him, and put it slowly on his thorax. Under my palm, my heart beats in his chest. Where it should be. Contact point. Point of no return. Breaking point. The towel is abandoned. The knife crashes on the ground in a metallic noise.

Feline, his body collides into mine. Voracious lips. Incisive teeth. Saliva. Sweaty and possessive hands. Rustle of clothes. My jacket falls, the rest follows. The bathtub overflows. My feet walk on the tempered parquet. His naked flesh against mine, arsonist, pyromaniac. Hunger pierces me. Desire dislocates me.

His fingers catch soft muscles of my ass, and I leave the ground. His steps are heavy, while he carries me in the other room. Biceps strained with effort. Disordered breathing. Sweat on the forehead. Ruined hairstyle. And he throws me on this bed, covered with outrageously expensive sheets. Hardness of the fall. Softness of silk. Burn of his skin, while he bottoms me. Hard penis, sliding against each other, starved. Hannibal's heady smell. Olfactive seism. Taste of his skin. Gustative madness. Tempting curve of his back. Tactile need. Undulations of his body. Visual feast. Sweet tone of his sighs. Hearing paradise. Pleasure of the senses. Neuronal saturation. Cerebral Explosion. Annihilated control. Swept consciousness.

Forgotten preliminaries. Desire to hurt as much as to please. Pain, intense, to feel him insinuating itself inside me. Quartering of flesh. Surrender of muscles. Abandonment of the body. And, the alienating sensation to be filled. Sense of belonging. Branded. The pleasure which pierces, nagging, crawls under my sweaty skin, poisons my brain, and pulses in my veins. Expectation, unbearable, while he doesn't move, his eyes intently me.

I fight against my deepest nature, to support this look. And that I have the misfortune to see there almost pushes me into madness. Necessity. Greed. Insatiable appetite. Sensuality. Ferocity. Voracity. And something else. Something warm, sweet. Indecipherable. The love of a man incapable to love. And yet...

He leans over me, gives me in an endless, devastating kiss, while he moves back. His hips knock against my ass. My voice breaks. Pleasure bursts. He caresses my face with a bloody hand. His fingers leave a red trail on my cheek. The vital liquid, coagulated and dried in some areas, stains the sheets, defile my body. Blood red. He seems to appreciate the picture. Too much. And takes me harder.

My thighs close around his waist. My heels push him to get lost deeper inside of me. My hands grip his broad, powerful shoulders. My nails scratch his back. I smell him, at the edge of asphyxiation. Taste him, hug him. Wild light in his eyes. Bestiality in gestures. Abrasions. Bruising. Caresses. Kiss. Brutal fucking. Immeasurable love. Pure emotion.

Vertigo of senses. Erratic rhythm. Percussions. War drums. Voluptuousness. Cries. Whispers. Moans. Supplications. Sadism. His lips come down in my neck. His teeth skin a collarbone. His rough tongue drinks to the source. His hand closes itself around my cock on the verge of exploding. Grabs me without sweetness. Take away from me the last bits of reason. Enjoys maintaining me on the edge of orgasm. On the edge of madness.

Air saturation. Mixing of fluids. Disordered heart beats. Creased, torn sheets. Broken vocal cords. Painful muscles. Emotions wave. The pleasure arises, inexorably. Devastates everything in its path. I burn. I fall. Mown in flight by climax. My whole body stretched towards him. White melts with red, on my belly. Splashes my chest. I can't breathe.

His fingers catch painfully my hips, bruise the flesh. He takes me more profoundly, more hardly. Loses control, submerged by too many sensations. He drowns, melts into me. Fusion of the souls. Union of the bodies. Frenzy. Insanity. Fever. Passion. Sweet perversion. The sweat on his skin. His hair stuck on his forehead. His eyes close. He arches his back. Time stops. Moment of eternity. His heart empties in mine. Filled with his heat, I hold him very hardly against me. I feel him flowing into me. Mark me as his. His teeth bite my shoulder. His claws close around my waist, pulling my messy hair. My name, as a declaration, on his lips. Adoration. Possession. Power.

Liquefied. Exhausted. Disarticulated. Numbness of limbs. Vision's darkening. Shaking. Vibration. The weight of his burning body on mine. Bliss. Satisfaction. Satiety. His jerky breath in my ear. The unexpected caresses of his hands. The whisper of his soothing, raw, poisonous words. The heat of the tears which I can't retain. A sob ripping my throat. The hollow of the emptiness in my chest, finally filled. It's not a dream. Nor a nightmare. And I keep him against me, incapable to release him. I want to tell him: Never disappear without me. I take you as you are. I want all of you. I accept you as my dark side, if you permit me to enlighten you in return. You are unique, beautiful. But, words abut against my teeth. Muddled thoughts. Ups and downs in my voice. Convulsion of mind. Confusion of senses.

A single word.

Three syllables.

Hannibal.

And he understands.

 **The end**


End file.
